The howls rippled through the cavern like a storm breaking loose. Caleb's throat tightened as the echoes bounced off the stone and came back to them, multiplied, distorted, like a hundred monsters instead of dozens. He couldn't see them yet, but he felt them—closing in, converging on every escape.
Gorrin didn't hesitate. He pulled the jagged Riftbone blade from his belt, its pale surface catching the ore-light with a ghostly sheen. "Stay close. Use the walls for your shaping. Force them into bottlenecks."
Caleb nodded, though his pulse thundered too loud in his ears for the words to settle. He shaped energy into his palms, willing it into a crude spear. The shaft flickered, imperfect, but it was solid enough. His breathing steadied. Not perfect, but enough.
The ridge they followed narrowed as it curved, the drop yawning wider on the left. Caleb hugged the wall on his right, the faint glow from the veins in the rock illuminating the sweat on Gorrin's shoulders. The older man moved with grim precision, his every step balanced despite the loose gravel underfoot.
Then the first Cragfang appeared.
It burst from a side tunnel above them, claws sparking as it dug into the stone, its jaws unhinging in a howl that tore through the air. Without hesitation, Gorrin lunged, his blade sweeping in a clean arc. The monster dropped before it even hit the ridge, its skull split.
"Keep your eyes sharp!" he barked. "That was the scout. The pack is right behind."
As if on cue, more shadows spilled from the cracks above and below. The ridge trembled under their weight, claws scrabbling, teeth flashing in the dim. Caleb's heart leapt into his throat.
"Too many!" he gasped, thrusting his spear at the first beast that leapt his way. The weapon skewered through its shoulder, but the creature didn't stop—it snapped its jaws inches from Caleb's face before Gorrin's boot smashed into its side, sending it tumbling over the edge into the abyss.
"You're not here to count them," Gorrin snarled. He drove his blade into another beast, twisting free with a spray of dark ichor. "You're here to survive them."
Caleb grit his teeth and forced himself forward. Another Cragfang bounded toward him, claws gleaming. He willed his spear to shift, condensing Riftenergy into jagged spikes along its length. As the monster leapt, he thrust upward, driving the weapon through its chest. The force knocked him to one knee, but the beast writhed once, then fell still.
He tore the spear free, his hands shaking. He barely had a second to breathe before two more were already climbing the wall.
"Damn it," Caleb hissed. He slammed his palm against the stone, shaping quick protrusions of Riftenergy—razor-edged javelins jutting from the wall. The monsters leapt straight into them, their shrieks piercing as they thrashed against the traps.
"Good!" Gorrin bellowed over the chaos. "Keep shaping, don't hold back!"
The pack was pressing harder now, snarls and claws echoing from every side. Some tried to flank them by climbing the wall above, while others hurled themselves straight onto the ridge, heedless of the drop. Caleb fought with everything he had, his mind splitting between forming weapons and keeping his body moving. Every kill was a gamble—sometimes his constructs held, sometimes they shattered, but always the Riftenergy flowed, wild and demanding.
A Cragfang came low, jaws snapping for his leg. Caleb reacted on instinct, forming a half-shield that exploded from his arm. The impact sent him stumbling backward toward the abyss. His heel slipped on loose stone—
"Caleb!"
Gorrin's hand shot out, seizing his collar and hauling him back just as claws raked where his torso had been. Caleb staggered, breathless, the drop spinning below. He met Gorrin's glare—furious, sharp, but not without a flicker of concern.
"Focus," Gorrin growled. "If the pit doesn't kill you, I will."
Caleb barked a shaky laugh, more relief than humor, and forced himself upright. Together they pressed forward, inch by inch, slashing, shaping, shoving bodies off the ledge. The ridge stretched endlessly, the ore-glow casting everything in a feverish twilight. The monsters came like waves, their snarls rattling Caleb's bones.
Still, he fought.
He shaped another spear, jagged and unrefined, and drove it through a Cragfang's throat. He blasted spikes into the wall to slow another. He ducked behind Gorrin's swings, learning, imitating, surviving. His body burned, but his spirit refused to yield.
The chorus of howls never stopped, but for every beast that lunged, another fell. The ridge was slick with their ichor, the stench clinging to Caleb's nostrils, his hands, his very soul.
At last, Gorrin shoved another corpse over the edge and spat into the darkness. "Enough of this." He pointed ahead with his blade. The ridge curved upward into a cavern mouth wide enough for two men to stand side by side. "That opening. We hold there. Make a stand."
Caleb followed his gaze, the glow outlining the jagged entrance. His chest tightened. They were outnumbered, exhausted, but at least in the opening they wouldn't be trapped on the ledge.
He nodded, sweat dripping from his brow. "Then let's finish it."
The two of them surged forward, the snarling pack behind them, the abyss at their side, and the cavern mouth looming like the promise of either survival—or death.